


Stressed Out

by Marasa



Series: Dream Eater [8]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Anxiety, Bullying, Candy, Cuddling, Drug Dealing, Drunkenness, Fighting, Flirting, Fluff, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Marijuana, Nightmare Before Christmas - Freeform, PTSD, Panic, Party, Police, Protectiveness, Pumpkin carving, Smoking, Snuggling, Social Anxiety, Soft Boys, Stressed Out, Supernatural Elements, Violence, fall - Freeform, metaphors galore, rabbit mask
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-30
Updated: 2017-10-30
Packaged: 2019-01-26 11:16:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,172
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12556228
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: Halloween- a time of inherent spookiness and the pungent smell of pumpkin spice always in the air. There are parties happening all around them and inflatable pumpkins and monsters littering a few of the neighbors’ yards.It's not that he hates Halloween, it's just that Tyler doesn't get it.





	Stressed Out

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween, everyone!

Black paint covers Tyler’s fingers.

It looks smoky, creeping up his fingers and smearing along the side of his hands, his wrist, forearms. He’s trying to keep clean but everything has gotten so messy.

The rest of them have knives in their hands and a wild look in their eyes. Stringy guts cover the top of the breakfast table. Fingers grip harder at wood handles gone sweaty in their palms and suddenly nine inches of razor steel is disappearing as Mark swings the knife down into the pumpkin below him.

“It’s fucking Halloween!” Mark yells. “Best time of the fucking year!”

Halloween- a time of inherent spookiness and the pungent smell of pumpkin spice always in the air. There are parties happening all around them and inflatable pumpkins and monsters littering a few of the neighbors’ yards.

Most of it’s silly and comical but it's a naturally a holiday of spooks.

It's not that he hates Halloween, it's just that Tyler doesn't get it. Just like horror movies, the question is always, ‘Why are humans so set on being scared?’ They crave fear so much that they've dedicated a whole holiday to it. It makes Tyler a bit anxious.

One of the only things that make Halloween sweet are the bags of candy that have accumulated in the house.

He’s pretty sure they’ve spent more than a hundred dollars on huge bags of chocolates and lollipops and taffies and gummies. Tyler's tongue always tastes like caramel. Josh’s breath always smells like chocolate. Their October diet may make them prone to cavities but it's so damn delicious.

Among many of the traditions that accompany Halloween is carving large orange gourds for whatever reason. Michael returns from the store with another bag of caramel candies and six pumpkins in the back of the car.

They all go outside, treating the car as an impromptu pumpkin patch. They all size up the pumpkins and pick which one they want. Jordan picks the smallest, of course Mark has to grab the biggest. Tyler takes a moderately sized one with a short stem from the blood covered back seat.

Apparently they tried to clean Josh’s blood from the car’s interior but nothing really came of it. Michael says after October they'll get a new car. Till then, it looks like a misplaced Halloween decoration.

Tyler can’t help the chill that runs through him at the sight.

The sun sets and the entire house sits at the breakfast table, newspaper acting a tablecloth underneath the gutted pumpkins in front of each of them. Well, all except Tyler.

Tyler pulls back his paintbrush from his own pumpkin so he can look at his design. He had requested paint after observing that carving a pumpkin was unnecessarily violent. There was stabbing and cutting and scooping out guts and all that gross stuff.

Josh had smiled sweetly at the blushing spirit and had delivered an array of acrylic paints and paintbrushes to him.

For the past fifteen minutes, although Tyler has felt mildly confused and uncertain of his artistic ability, he finds himself having fun. He likes moving paint around and spending time with the people he cares about.

Maybe that’s why they carve pumpkins- the joy of spending time together.

Josh is sitting right beside him, his elbow on his knee and his head resting in his hand. His pumpkin is one of the first finished, already sitting on the kitchen counter by the back door so they can put it outside shortly.

Little eyes are carved in it, as is a fanged smile, a pair of triangle ears and a triangle nose. His cat face is simple yet effective.

“Is it turning out alright?” Tyler turns to look at Josh with an unsure bite to his bottom lip. He’s pretty sure this is the hundredth time he’s asked that question tonight. “This is the way you do it, right? I don’t know what the hell I’m doing.”

Josh’s attention is pulled to his pumpkin. He sits up a little straighter, considering it. Black paint is drying there in a classic smiling jack-o-lantern design, which Tyler has been copying from an image Josh drew for him on a piece of notebook paper earlier.

Josh smiles brightly. “It looks great, Tyler.”

The spirit smiles too but it falters when he really takes the chance to actually look at Josh.

He looks restless. He bounces his leg every now and then and he keeps scratching his chin and looking around the room. It looks like he wants to say something or is waiting for something but before Tyler can press him, Hayley’s speaking up.

“Aw, turn it up, Jordan,” the purple-haired girl says. “This is my favorite.”

Jordan stands in the living room with a remote in his hand, taking a quick break so he could find something for them to watch. He smiles as he turns up the television so they can better hear ‘It’s the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown.’

“Let’s watch Halloween movies tonight,” Mark says through gritted teeth as he drags the blade of the knife down his gourd. His attempted design is unknown; Tyler thinks he just likes making a mess.

“Tyler doesn’t like scary movies,” Josh mumbles from around his thumbnail. Tyler looks over at him but they don’t make eye contact, not when Josh is looking down the hall.

Josh never bites his nails. Tyler bites the inside of his cheek.

“I never said it had to be a _scary_ movie,” Hayley says. She turns her pumpkin around to reveal a cute little face. She even managed to carve eyelashes under the eyes. “We could watch ‘The Nightmare Before Christmas.’ I know you’ve never seen it, but I’m sure you’d like it.”

“It’s kinda like you,” Mark says as he continues his stabbing, hard enough that he might dislocate his shoulder. “Initially seems scary but is actually cute as hell.”

Josh snorts. Tyler blushes.

“Whatta you say, Ty?” Hayley says. “You down for watching a movie?”

Tyler smiles. “Sure.”

Someone's phone buzzes on the table. They all look up and lean over to read a text of a leaf emoji, a thinking emoji, followed by a red question mark emoji.

“Ugh,” Hayley groans with a considerate roll of her eyes. “I totally forgot; it's his Halloween party tonight.”

The phone buzzes again. Another text, this time with three emojis of stacks of money with wings.

“It isn't an invitation,” Mark says sadly, leaning over to decipher the modern hieroglyphics. “Just a job, I guess.”

“He didn’t invite us? Good,” Michael says from the head of the table. “Guy’s a fucking asshole anyway. Who wants to hang out with him and his shit friends anyway?”

Josh stands from his chair suddenly, looking down at all of them as they all look up. “I'll go.”

Tyler’s confused. He doesn't know who they're referring to but whoever it is an asshole and shitty and other choice words but if that’s the case, why would Josh want to go? It’s been weeks since he’s gone on a job, the last one being when he got shot. Suddenly he’s going on this job, presumably alone, no explanation, no discussion, no warning.

The others at the table look just as confused.

“You don’t have to, Josh,” Michael matter of fact.

“It’s my turn to go, anyway,” Jordan says.

“I can go, though,” Josh says. “I'm already up.”

“Are you even feeling up to it?” Hayley asks with a glance at his side, as if she can see the still healing wound and the tight bandages underneath.

“Yeah!” Josh says. “I feel great, you know I’ve been feeling way better. I want to go.” He shrugs. “We have some time before we watch whatever so I’ll go and come right back. It’ll be quick.”

Michael looks him up and down. He shrugs, tilts his beer to his lips and takes a sip. “Do whatever you want. We’ll be here.”

Tyler whips his head toward Michael, eyes wide and head shaking subtly in a dire question of, _‘What the fuck are you doing?!’_

They all, except for Josh, glance awkwardly between Tyler and Michael currently staring at each other. Michael breaks eye contact first, averting his gaze past them.

“It's fine,” Michael answers no one in particular. “Josh- go if you're gonna go. And hurry up.”

Josh smiles and disappears down the hallway to his room.

Tyler’s not entirely sure what just happened. They were carving pumpkins and talking about movies and now Josh is leaving. Tyler puts down his paintbrush and stands from the table, scowling at Michael who refuses to look up from his own pumpkin before following Josh to his room.

When he opens the door, Josh is pulling a different shirt over his head. Tyler swallows roughly at the sight of his bare back, muscled and defined. He closes the door behind him and clears his throat bashfully.

Josh glances back at him. 

“Oh hey,” Josh says in greeting. He turns back around and slips on some shoes, goes to the closet and sifts through his many jackets in search of a particular one. 

“U-Um...where are you going?” Tyler tries. It really isn’t his business but he can’t help but ask. His anxiety’s flaring up- he can feel the way his hands are getting sweaty and his heart is starting to race.

“To a job,” Josh answers distractedly, not making eye contact with him. “Some guys who live a couple streets down. Need some party weed.”

“That’s a thing?” Tyler says.

“Party weed?” Josh hums. “Sure.”

Josh pulls a hoodie from a hanger. It’s black, looking eerily similar to the same one he had on when he went on that job weeks ago. The fact doesn’t sit well with Tyler. It feels like a bad omen, makes him feel strange. It brings his anxiety to heighten, panic to trickle into his blood.

“We were going to watch a movie together,” Tyler says. “Michael says you didn’t have to go.”

But Josh doesn't seem to be listening. He's throwing on his hoodie and opening a drawer and putting a large plastic bag full of green bud under his jacket. Tyler comes to sit on the edge of Josh’s bed right in front of him, but that doesn’t seem to gain the other’s attention.

“Stay here, Josh,” Tyler says, wringing and twisting his hands nervously in his lap. “We were gonna relax and enjoy the holiday all together. You should be here, I want you here. Please, just stay here, Joshua.”

Josh looks around to check if he has everything. He murmurs to himself as he checks off his mental list of items he will need before turning his back to Tyler as he goes to walk out the door.

Tyler feels powerless as Josh doesn’t even acknowledge him.

He’s leaving without a goodbye, a hug, nothing. That night they did that big job, Josh had said goodbye but now he’s acting like Tyler’s not even there. Josh can’t leave yet, he shouldn’t be leaving at all. Something terrible could happen and Tyler needs that closure, he needs to know everything will be okay.

The spirit stands from the bed and wraps his arms around Josh’s torso from behind before he can reach the door. He can feel the rough texture of the bandages through the man’s shirt.

“Joshua, please,” Tyler pleads pathetically against his back. “Please stay, please, please…”

Josh freezes in surprise but then slowly turns in the spirit’s arms. He wraps an arm around the spirit’s shoulders and places a hand on the back of his head. Tyler falls easily into his chest. He’s stupidly hopeful that Josh will forget all about this job.

“Tyler,” Josh lulls, “I’ll be fine. I promise.”

The spirit squeezes his eyes shut and leans further against Josh’s chest. 

“But it’s safe here,” Tyler murmurs against him. “I don't want you getting hurt again. Please stay, please.”

“I’m not in any danger, though,” Josh says. “What happened before- that won't ever happen again. This job is easy- just a stupid drug deal. Completely safe. Trust me.”

But Tyler doesn’t really believe him, not entirely. Josh sounds so sure but last time he left on a job, it was pandemonium. There was pain and tears and the fear of losing him.

The spirit squeezes tighter, anxiety rising and frustration bringing his chest to ache. It’s a wonder he finds the strength to drop his arms from Josh’s torso. They hang limply at his sides.

It's Josh’s decision. He can go wherever he wants. He's mostly recovered and he's free to do whatever he wants.

Still, Tyler can't shake that feeling of dread. It's happening again, it's going to happen all over again, it's-

A finger hooks under his chin and gently urges him to look up.

“Tyler, I’ll be fine,” Josh repeats. His eyes are soft, his warm smile is subtle. “I’ll be back in…” he glances at the alarm clock beside the bed, “half an hour at the most. I promise.”

Josh drops his finger from Tyler’s face. His skin feels colder without him there. Josh gives him a smile, a nod, and then he’s leaving out the bedroom door without another look behind him. Tyler sits harshly on the edge of the bed.

He sits there, miserable and slouched, as he waits and watches the door, almost hoping Josh will walk back in and say, ‘ _Fuck it! I'd rather spend the night with you and the rest of my friends tonight than go to some asshole’s Halloween party to deal drugs!_ ’

He wishes that were the case, but apparently Tyler and the rest of the house isn’t enough for Josh.

The sound of the back door shutting ricochets down the hall. Tyler stares blankly at the wall. Josh is already gone and there’s nothing he can do.

He promised that he would never let this happen again, and here he is, sitting idly as he lets Josh walk straight into danger even if he doesn't consider himself to be in potential harm. He'll just have to sit here like before, twiddling his fingers and stewing in panic and just hoping, _hoping_ nothing happens.

Tyler furrows his brow. Fuck this.

He jumps up, throws off his oversized shirt and sweatpants and grabs some presentable clothes from Josh’s drawer. Black shorts go on over black leggings. A black shirt covers his torso. He shoves on black vans over red socks and pulls a red beanie atop his head.

He swore this would never happen again and Tyler plans to make good on that promise. He can be act like a Halloween party-going asshole, if only for one night.

There's still black paint on his hands and on his arms, even some on his throat from when he was trying to get his shirt on, but there's no time to wash it off. He's going to keep his best friend fucking safe.

In a few hours, it will officially be Halloween. Tyler doesn't completely understand it but he knows that there is no way a twenty-something’s party so close to Halloween will _not_ have costumes. What young person isn't looking for an excuse to wear a sexy goldfish costume?

Tyler spots his mask on the table. He’ll need to fit in, he’ll need to play it cool. He’ll need to look just like any other lover of Halloween.

He grabs his rabbit mask before leaving the room.

Everyone else is in the living room now. They're done with their pumpkins but they seem to still be having a good time. They're laughing and talking loudly enough that they don't realize Tyler as he slips past them and out the back door.

The wind is brisk, chilly in a spooky, autumny kind of way. The moon is guarded by a wisp of black clouds like the smudges of paint on Tyler’s arms.

Tyler slips to the front yard. He can see Josh at the end of the street walking westward. He feels stupid as he tries to keep behind the bushes and trees as he ghosts Josh from far away.

For more than ten minutes, Tyler stays hidden amongst the foliage. He’s mildly freaked out by the ominous shadows and the whistling wind that exist on these empty neighborhood streets, but he keeps his wits about him, trying not to stew on the creepiness of it all.

After Josh smokes a whole cigarette, turns three times and walks down a darker street, Tyler begins to hear faint music. It’s pumping and loud, sounding vaguely electronic and disorienting. It grows louder as Josh walks to a two-story house at the end of the street.

Gold light spills from the windows and open front door. There’s laughing and yelling over the music. Josh moves from the sidewalk into the yard, moving through crowds of people to enter through the front door.

Once Josh is out of sight, Tyler practically runs down the street after him. He slips on his mask when he gets to the yard, anonymous amongst beautiful men and women with soft skin showing. They sip on beers and hard lemonade, looking a little drunk as they sway on their feet.

The spirit moves past them and into the house. It smells sour, like sex and spilled alcohol and sweat and smoke from drugs that burn differently than weed.

There are men with face tattoos and cheap Halloween costumes sitting at a far away table tucked against the wall. There are pretty girls in sequins bikinis dancing atop the countertops and tables. Other costumed characters clutter up the floor plan, taking to breaking things and yelling at each other.

A man and woman grind on each other on the sofa in the living room. Someone chokes on smoke from a pipe, smoke that smells harder than light drugs. Someone’s bleeding by the sink. There’s a loud bang and Tyler turns to see a crowd formed around the stairs where two men sit in plastic containers and race down the stairs.

A girl is crying by the loveseat, some guy dressed as Beetlejuice is pushing another dressed as a pirate. Tyler blinks behind his rabbit mask as he looks around dumbly.

So. Protect Josh. Keep him safe.

Uh. Yeah.

Tyler blanches as he realizes he didn't even consider this. He doesn't have any tool for defense other than his shaky fists and a timid voice that can only utter an, _‘Excuse me- can you please leave?_ ’ in times of uncomfortable social interaction. And he knows for fucking sure that won’t work with this crowd.

It’s stuffy in here and the volume is only increasing, as is the violence. Fists are all of a sudden being thrown and the yelling is deafening. Josh is nowhere to be seen but Tyler has to get out of here- it’s just too much.

He turns and speeds past drunk individuals out the door. The cool wind blows and he slips his mask off of his face. He breathes deeply, trying to catch his breath on the crowded porch.

This was a mistake. He has no idea where Josh is and they need to get home. From the little Tyler has seen in less than five minutes, he knows that this crowd is hardcore. This isn’t lighthearted fun, not really. It’s a wonder the cops haven’t been called yet.

Tyler looks around, scanning the crowds in the front yard and the porch for Josh. He doesn’t find dyed red hair or a black hoodie but what he does find is a bowl of candy positioned on a knocked over grave-stone decoration. No one even looks at it but they're standing right in front of it inadvertently, blocking it as they drink and talk.

He needs to calm down, think for a moment, figure out what he’s going to do. A little sugar will help get his mind working, he thinks. Or maybe that’s just an excuse for him to eat his nervousness and growing worry. Whatever.

Tyler holds his mask in his hand as he slips around the other party-goers with a murmured, ‘ _Excuse me._ ’ He stands on the grass as he peers down into the bucket of candy by his feet. It’s mostly empty but lining the bottom are triangular candies, three different shade of color. He’s never had these one before. The spirit picks one up, sucks it into his mouth.

His eyes widen.

The house really likes chocolate for whatever reason but Tyler never thought it was all that great. But whatever this little triangle is is one of the best things he's ever eaten.

The spirit takes a handful of the candy and sprinkles it in his mouth absent-mindedly. Okay, now time to come up with a plan. He chews, swallows, squints around the crowd in search of his best friend. If he’s not out here, he’s inside.

Tyler will have to go back in, search the house, but once he finds him, then they can leave together before anything crazy happens. They’ll go home, watch a movie and then buy some of these candy triangles tomorrow.

Yeah, that could work. Tyler smiles.

“Who the fuck are you?”

Tyler’s smile drops.

He turns slowly to see three men in costumes across from him. A zombie and a vampire stand on either side of a muscular man wearing plastic armor and a helmet. Leather laces wrap around his bare legs up to his knees. A foam sword hangs in his belt- a gladiator.

“Putting his fuckin hands all in the bowl,” the vampire says. “Gross.”

“Did you even wash your fuckin’ hands before you ruined it for everyone?” the zombie asks.

Tyler furrows his eyebrows and looks between all of them. They’re slurring subtly, movements loose and breath smelling of hard liquor. There will be no reasoning with them.

“Never seen you before in my fucking life but here you are at our party,” the gladiator says. “So who the fuck are you?”

The spirit catches himself slouching, subconsciously curling in on himself under their judgmental gaze.

“Is your costume a fucking mute?” the gladiator laughs. “‘Cause if it is, you're doing a good fucking job.”

Tyler looks cautiously at each of them, slight irritation and fear shining in his red eyes. He was just minding his own business and trying to look for Josh and now he's stuck looking for an escape from this interaction as he begins to grow more and more nervous.

He looks past them, eyes flying from person to person for the one who is familiar. Where is Josh?

“Look at us when we’re fucking talk to you.”

His eyes fly back to them whether he likes it or not.

Tyler doesn't like this. He wants to leave. He needs Josh to come with him; it's not safe here with all these angry humans picking on people eating candy and starting fights for no reason.

“Just cause you put on red contacts doesn't mean you're wearing a costume, by the way,” the zombie says, sounding very matter of fact.

“This is a strictly ‘costume-only’ party,” the vampire says. “Since you have a fucking weak one, you can get the fuck out.”

“I didn't know you had such a strict dress code,” Tyler murmurs before he can think better of it.

They glare.

“Wait, he's got a mask right here,” the zombie says. The gladiator steps forward and rips the mask from his left hand and hold it up so they can look at it.

“Excuse me! That’s mine!” Tyler reaches for it. They keep it just out of reach.

“I said that’s mine! Give it back!” Tyler says, panic trickling into his voice and a hand extended toward them.

Josh got it for him, it was a present. It was the first and one of the only gifts anyone had ever gotten him in all these years of his existence.

Maybe it was his fault for bringing it. He blames himself now that it's in their hands.

“Give it back!” Tyler shouts. Party-goers turn to look at him, scowling and snickering to themselves.

“A rabbit?” The three look at him. “You're supposed to be a rabbit? Then what’s all that black shit on your hands? Is that a part of your costume? Or are you just that fucking gross?”

“Give. It. Back,” Tyler says, low and serious. It doesn't sound near as intimidating as he would have hoped.

They all laugh.

“Who the fuck invited this guy?” the zombie giggles, wiping at the tears in his eyes before it can ruin his blue-gray makeup.

“You really think anyone here would invite this weirdo?” the vampire says. “This guy’s fucking crashing.”

Their laughing stops.

Something brutal flashes in the gladiator’s eyes and without breaking contact from Tyler, he swings the mask behind them, throwing it like a frisbee. It disappears in the crowds of people littering the front yard.

“Hey!” Tyler shouts. He goes to move after it but there's a hand on his chest holding him back. He looks up, teeth gritted.

“Where're you going?” the gladiator asks. “We’re talking to you, and you wanna leave? That's rude.”

“Fuck you!” Tyler yells.

The costumed men smile devilishly under the moon, looking like Halloween incarnate.

“Fuck us?” the gladiator speaks lowly. “Fuck you.”

It's quick. The gladiator is standing in front of him and then suddenly he's up in Tyler’s personal space, strong hands on his chest pushing him roughly to the ground.

Tyler stumbles and falls with a thud and a sore ass onto the cool ground.

“Narc,” the vampire spits. That brings a mischievous light to twinkle in the gladiator’s eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “Fucking cop.”

“Has to be one of the new ones,” the zombie says.

“Straight from the academy,” the vampire says. “Scared as hell.”

The gladiator smiles down at Tyler. “Good.”

“What are you talking about?! I'm not a cop!” Tyler tries to stand again but the bottom of a boot on his shoulder forces him back down on the ground. He releases a pained ‘oof.’

“We’re gonna waste your ass,” the gladiator says. He brings the heel of his sandal down on Tyler’s wrist that is currently at his side, holding him up as he sits up on the grass.

The gladiator is bigger than Tyler, muscled and tall. The spirit can feel just how heavy he is as he grinds his foot down on the bone in his wrist, back and forth.

“Ah!” Tyler tries to pull his wrist from under the man but stops when the attempt only brings him more pain. “Stop! Stop! Get off!”

The gladiator presses harder. The pain intensifies.

Tyler grinds his teeth from the pain, heart racing in panic, tears pricking his eyes like needlepoint. The amalgamation of uncomfortable feeling makes him panic.

His panic, however, quickly shifts to anger.

Tyler hates how much of asshole douchebags they're being. He hates the fact that they're about to beat him and he's too weak to ever try to protect himself, let alone Josh. He hates this stupid party.

Tyler hates them.

The spirit looks up at them with glowing red eyes.

“What the fu-”

They barely get the words out before the blades of grass around them waver with the energy emanating off of the angered spirit. It feels like heat waves that buzz with harsh electricity. Tyler’s hair flutters with the difference in gravity immediately around him, his clothing moving as though he were underwater.

His hands look darker, his throat feels tight. A shadow is cast by his beanie over his eyes as he tilts his chin down barely an inch, glowing red eyes glaring up at them.

Tyler’s fingers curl into a fist under the gladiator’s sandal. He doesn't even think about it. His mind is completely blank, nothing but emotion moving him as, without a single movement, he manages to throw the man’s foot off of his aching wrist with mere willpower alone.

The three gasp.

They stare perplexed and frightened. They look at each other for any kind of explanation or next move but they're too drunk to properly make good decisions.

They should have run. That's what was supposed to happen. They were supposed to be scared off and leave him alone. But then the three turn back to Tyler with an expression heightened annoyance rather than fear.

The murder in their eyes causes doubt to ripple through the spirit. This newfound power is still too new to really utilize and he can feel the red light leave his eyes and the grass around him stop shuddering as his anxiety increases.

“Fucking freak!” the zombie yells. The other two join in with harsh names and curses.

Tyler recoils from the hate in their voices. They all get in position with raised fists and cocked legs, completely ready to beat him to a pulp.

Tyler is hopeless, too stressed to even hope to fight back. He can't orient himself in the chaos. He thought he had it but he doesn't. He was stupid for coming; what did he expect would happen? He’s useless, weak, incapable of protecting anyone, even himself.

All he can do is cradle his throbbing wrist to his chest and squeeze his eyes shut. Tyler tries his best to prepare himself for the brutal hits that will surely come.

A voice comes instead.

“ _Get away from him NOW.”_

Tyler’s eyes fly open. Josh.

The red-haired man stands behind Tyler’s three antagonizers, breathing hard with his jaw tense, hands turned to tight fists at his sides. The expression of pure fury he wears sends a chill through Tyler.

Josh looks deadly.

The three turn away from the spirit cowering below them to look at Josh, obviously as taken off-guard as Tyler. They blink and stutter, recognizing their mistake far too late.

Tyler makes good use of the distraction. He scrambles up from the grass and hurries over to Josh, just to slip behind him and peek at the troublemakers from around the infuriated man’s shoulder.

Josh stands straighter, squares up his shoulders, not only to intimidate the drunk idiots across from them, but to also create a sturdier wall to protect the trembling spirit clutching the back of his shirt.

“Dun?” the gladiator says, voice slightly shaking. “You know this fucking freak?”

Josh grinds his teeth. “This ‘fucking freak’ is my best friend.”

“Oh! We thought he was a cop!” The zombie laughs forcefully. “How funny is that!”

“Now that you say it, he's way too weak to be a cop,” the vampire says, looking nervous even though he's smiling. “We’re so dumb!”

Josh exhales a deep growl.

Tyler can feel just how livid Josh is. His muscles are tense under the spirit’s hands. His breathing is ragged. His left hand keeps reaching back behind him, fingers skimming Tyler’s waist to make sure he's still there, away from danger, protected, safe.

Tyler presses his cheek against Josh’s back and touches the furious man’s fingers with his own in an attempt to calm him down. He needs to think clearly, not do anything too stupid but Tyler’s beginning to think Josh is far past that point.

“Fuck it,” the gladiator growls, dropping the stupid act. “This is our house. You and your loser friends work for us. We can do whatever the fuck we want to people on our property, so stick to what you know and get out of our way.”

The gladiator takes a bold step forward.

“Frankly,” the gladiator says, “I don't like people I don't know at our fucking parties. Especially not socially awkward freaks. So, let me just talk to him and you can go back home and get stoned and forget all about this little prick.”

The other two beside him laugh darkly. Josh doesn't move.

“Why are you standing in front of him?” the gladiator hums. “Your job is to deliver drugs, not protect some pathetic loser. Get out of the fucking way.”

He takes another step forward. Josh growls in warning.

“Uh oh,” the gladiator snickers. He glances over his shoulder at his friends for support. “Look at him,” he points, “Dun’s actually close to this little bitch.”

When he takes another step closer, Josh takes half a step, challenging.

“Back the fuck up,” Josh spits. “I swear, if you don't back the fuck up in the next five fucking seconds-”

“Don't fight his battles for him,” the gladiator says.  “C’mon, Joshie- he’s a big boy. He doesn't need you to protect him. We just wanna talk to him, anyway.”

“Yeah, ‘talk,’” the zombie snickers. The vampire laughs beside him.

The gladiator makes eye contact with Tyler around Josh’s shoulder. “Stop hiding, pussy. What? You scared? Pussy, pussy.”

“Don't you fucking talk to him,” Josh says as he moves directly in front of the gladiator, getting right in his face, breathing roughly in his face, only an inch away. The volume of his voice grows. His patience is quickly approaching zero, maybe even a negative number. “Turn around right now and walk your drunk ass away before I fucking lose it.”

“Shut your mouth, Josh.” The gladiator glares up at Josh before shifting his gaze to Tyler. The spirit moves further behind Josh. That only angers the gladiator.

“You fucker!” He grits his teeth, points, spits. “Stop hiding!”

The gladiator moves forward with drunk annoyance burning in his eyes. He reaches out his hand like he's about to take a handful of Tyler’s shirt and pull him from around Josh. It's as if nothing in the world matters more than beating Tyler’s ass for no reason, and he looks set on doing exactly that.

His big fingers barely hook in the fabric of Tyler’s sleeve. Tyler gasps but his attacker doesn't get the chance to get any closer as Josh cocks his fist back and throws it directly into the guy’s nose.

The gladiator goes down.

“If you ever, _ever_ touch him again, I will end you!” Josh yells to the man on the ground. Blood pours from both of the gladiator’s nostrils, a groan escapes him. His defeat doesn’t quell Josh’s fury. “I swear if you even _look_ in his direction again, you will fucking regret it!”

He sounds so intimidating and serious that it makes Tyler whimper behind him. The spirit burrows against his spine, right between his shoulder blades. He can feel Josh puff up a little at that in a subconscious gesture of deep protectiveness.

“What the fuck, Dun?” the gladiator says. His fingers try to stop the bleeding, his two idiot friends huddled over him useless.

“You're on the fucking black list,” Josh spits down at him, hands shaking. “Get your drugs from someone else- you're not getting it from us any more.”

“You fucking-”

“Leave now before I FUCKING LOSE IT!”

Josh is trembling.

They look like they're about to say something but think better or it. They shut up and scatter, tripping clumsily and babbling nonsense as they disappear back in the house.

Already, there are murmurs behind them, someone not too far away asking what the fuck just happened.

Josh is still breathing heavily. He looks around at the nosy party-goers, deadly gaze just daring them to say something, anything. All he needs is an excuse to take out his anger.!His fists are tight and he looks like he could kill.

It's frightening. It was definitely unexpected. The surprise of it all has adrenaline working through the both of them but Tyler naturally knows how to act as the balance to Josh’s volatile mood.

He rests his forehead against the back of Josh’s neck, fingers stroking his sides discreetly.

“Josh,” Tyler soothes. He slips his eyes closed and pushes closer. “Joshua…”

Josh leans his head back against him with a shaky exhale. His muscles begin to relax, from his shoulders to his fists. Once curled up fingers gingerly search and Tyler trails his hands from Josh’s waist down to where he’s reaching.

Their fingers hook together. It's the perfect fit.

Josh’s fingers give a quick squeeze before releasing him so he can walk a few steps to where Tyler’s mask lays in the ground. He bends over, picks it up, dusts off the dirt and picks a few blades of grass off of it. He holds it out to Tyler.

“I'm sorry,” Josh says, as if he had been the one to throw it moments before.

Tyler takes it with a small, ‘ _thank you_ ,’ anyway.

Their silence is interrupted by murmurs and snickers from those around them. Those costumed people dressed sexy and frightening stare at them with confusion and disapproval. The spirit’s anxiety grows at their unfaltering gaze and the growing volume of the party again.

“I want to leave,” Tyler murmurs, almost inaudible.

Perfect timing because just as Tyler says this, the sound of distant sirens starts up. There’s a collective gasp around them and party-goers start running from the house, leaving behind baggies of white powder and cloudy crystals. Beer bottles are dropped, pipes too. The sirens grow closer.

Josh grabs Tyler’s hand hurriedly. “We need to run. Right now.”

They’re sprinting down the street from the house, running on adrenaline as they move faster than they ever have before. Tyler’s lungs burn, his throat is going dry. He simultaneously feels colder and hotter than he’s felt all evening.

The sirens grow louder, the red and blue light shines down the street behind them and then in front of them. Cop cars are coming down both ends of the street, presumably  so no cars can escape. Their eyes widen as the lights circulate blindingly.

“In here, in here!” Josh says, pulling Tyler into a random yard.

They duck between two houses, safe in the shadow cast by the towering houses. They’re still panting, trying to stay quiet as the cop cars speed past them on their way to the Halloween party

Tyler sighs in relief, leaning back on the brick wall behind him. It goes mostly quiet other than their breathing and then Josh is enveloping the spirit in his arms and holding him close.

His quick shift from intimidating to comforting is amazing and it's exactly what Tyler needs. The spirit hugs him back tightly.

“Did they hurt you?” Josh says as he pulls back just enough to get a good look at him. “I swear if they hurt you, I’ll fucking-” he forces himself to calm down as much as he can. “What did they do?”

“Pushed me,” Tyler whispers, feeling guilty that he wasn't even able to defend himself.

“Are you okay?” Josh says hurriedly. “Does anything hurt?”

Tyler shakes his head, but when Josh’s fingers skim his wrist, he hisses. Josh whimpers sympathetically, wraps an arm around his waist, firm and protective.

“Tyler, I'm so sorry,” Josh mutters. “I'm sorry I wasn't there, I'm sorry.”

“Josh,” Tyler sighs, “you didn't even know I was there- you didn't do anything wrong. I'm the one who’s sorry.”

Tyler’s back to looking at his shoes. He showed up somewhere he wasn't invited, angered the owners of the house and almost got Josh beaten up.

Tyler squeezes his eyes shut. He feels like shit.

There's a large hand on his cheek, thumb stroking his skin soothingly. Tyler opens his eyes but doesn't look up.

“You did nothing wrong,” Josh says. Tyler doesn't move his eyes from the ground.

“Hey, look at me,” Josh whispers, gentle and almost sounding desperate. “It’s okay, Tyler. Please look at me. You did nothing wrong. Tyler, please, baby, please.”

There it is again- that name. It makes Tyler's heart race and his cheeks flare up beneath Josh’s fingers. He breathes a light whimper and pushes a little further into Josh’s hand.

Despite Josh’s heartbreaking pleas, Tyler can't bring himself to look up, not when he's so ashamed of his stupid behavior. He can, however, try to apologize.

“I'm sorry I showed up where I wasn't welcome,” Tyler says. “I'm sorry for making trouble and putting you in danger. I’m sorry for not thinking before I went to the party.”

Tyler sighs. “I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I wanted to be the one who protected you but of course I can't even do that.” He hangs his head. “I'm sorry, Joshua.”

There's a pause and then Tyler’s face is being cradled in large, warm hands. Slowly, he’s guided up, Josh’s grip so loose that it’s merely a suggestion than a forced movement. It's a quiet plea, volunteered strength and courage to get Tyler to make eye contact.

Josh’s hands contain the support Tyler needs in that moment and he raises his head slowly but still quicker than the feather light touch of Josh’s palms on his cheeks.

Red eyes finally meet brown and Tyler feels like he’ll melt. His knees actually go weak under him, making him sink a little shorter as he looks up. His shaking hands find a home on top of Josh’s, holding them securely to his face.

“Tyler,” Josh says comfortingly, “you have nothing to apologize for.” His thumbs stroke carefully across Tyler’s face. “It's not your fault those drunk idiots were violent. I just wish you'd have told me you were gonna show up. I could've been there sooner.”

“I told you to stay…” Tyler murmurs. “You didn't _have_ to go tonight. You didn't have to go but you did anyway.”

Josh slowly lets his hands drop from Tyler’s face. He runs a nervous hand through his hair.

“I know and I’m sorry. I just don't like feeling useless,” Josh says. “So what- I was shot! Big deal!” Josh forces a laugh. It makes Tyler frown. “I'm still me. I can still do work, I can still contribute. I'm not suddenly unable to live my life. I'm able. I'm still…” he blinks hard, looks far away, unsure, “I'm still able.”

Josh tries his damndest to not look affected but the hurt and fear is tangible in his eyes. Tyler rests a hand on his cheek.

“Josh…” Tyler says, trying to reassure him. “You're capable. You're not broken. You're still you and you could never be anything less. What happened doesn't define you.”

Josh avoids his gaze shyly for a brief moment before looking back at him, a soft smile pulling at his lips.

“Thank you,” he says. “I was just...trying to prove something to myself, I guess. It was a traumatic experience and I wanted to feel...normal again. I felt like I had to go, that way I could convince myself that nothing had changed and that I was still me.”

It _was_ traumatic for Josh. Of course it would be.

He had been having nightmares again. Tyler was left to feed from the other member’s of the house for the past week and a half, but that didn't matter. What mattered was the fact Josh would wake up panicked and trembling, hands flying to his side to check for fresh blood.

Tyler was always there though, whispering to him that he was safe as he waited for Josh to calm down. He never touched him when he woke from his nightmares, not when he was looking around wildly, confused and flinching from any tiny bit of movement.

The spirit would keep his distance and gently shush him, repeating over and over that it was just a dream and that he was home and not in any danger.

When Josh finally came back, Tyler was there to hold him close when Josh scooted over to him with quiet, desperate murmurs of, ‘ _Can you hold me? I’m sorry, Tyler- please, can you hold me?_ ’

It was never an inconvenience, but no matter how many times Tyler assured him that it was fine, Josh still acted as though he was a bother.

Tyler felt as though he was the bother.

He felt bad that he wasn't there to share in Josh’s nightmares but he just couldn't handle it. It was too much for him. Josh, too, assured him to not worry about it, that he wasn't obligated to suffer on account of him, but still, Tyler couldn't help but feel as though he was abandoning his best friend when he most needed him.

Josh needed him. Tyler was fine.

Tyler _had_ to be fine.

There was no other choice than to be okay because he needed to be there for Josh, the only one truly traumatized by the event.

“But it was also traumatic for you,” Josh says, inadvertently interrupting his train of thought.

Tyler blinks.

Was it really that obvious? Fuck.

He had been trying to stay discreet but still, the spirit couldn't help but cling to Josh in his sleep, follow him everywhere closer than before, and was always so anxious when Josh left for any reason at all. It was as if there was a possibility that is might happen all over, another attack, another near-death experience.

It was an outlandish thought, but there was no reasoning with anxiety.

Tyler’s hands would shake at the sound gunfire on television even though he hadn't been there that night to hear it. It didn't matter, not when his imagination was too good at scaring him.

Like an intrusive thought, no matter how much he didn't want to, he had begun to obsessively imagine the scene in his head- how exactly it had happened, the sound of gunfire, the yell of pain, the blood.

It would make him sick to his stomach and shaky multiple times throughout the day, and when Josh would ask him if he was alright, Tyler would force a smile, excuse himself to the bathroom and then proceed to cry as guilt welled up within him that he hadn't been there to protect the one person that was his entire life.

Josh almost died in his arms. Tyler had been powerless.

Only now does Tyler truly realize how traumatizing it’s been for him.

“We need to work through this together, okay?” Josh says. “We should have talked about it but I was fucking stupid and I’m sorry. I guess I thought that if I acted like it didn't bother me, it wouldn't. But that's not how it works, I guess.” Josh shakes his head. “I'm sorry for worrying you.”

“I-I just wanted you to stay safe,” Tyler starts, already beginning to shake. “I don't want you to ever hurt or suffer, especially not after what happened before. I don't want you to die, you need to stay here, you can't leave me, I couldn't live without you, please-”

Josh’s eyes widen as Tyler continues to stutter and ramble in growing anxiety. His emotional agony is tangible in every tiny twitch that wracks his body. Tyler is the one suffering at this particular moment. Josh doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms tightly around him before he can get too worked up and in his head.

“Shh,” Josh soothes with lips resting against his forehead. Tyler's fingernails bite into Josh’s sides. “I'm never leaving you, never, never, never. Don't ever think that I will.”

Tyler whimpers. Josh leans in to press their foreheads together. The closeness is comforting.

“It was unfair of me to go. I didn’t know it was that big of a deal when I left but now I know how disrespected and powerless my actions made you feel and I promise, Tyler, I promise I will never, ever, do that again. I'm so sorry.”

Tyler shuts his eyes. “I just wanted you to be safe.”

“But you were the one who ended up not safe, Tyler.”

That fact makes Tyler bite the inside of his cheek.

“Those guys know me,” Josh says, “but they don't know you. They don't play nice with people they don't know.”

“They especially didn't like me,” Tyler says pathetically.

He still doesn't know completely why they didn't like him but what he does know for sure is that he will think up and dwell on every single possibility why someone could hate him for hours and hours and long, lonely nights to come.

Josh’s grip around him tightens as Tyler deflates with the thought of impending misery he'll face and the approaching self-loathing. The red-haired punk noses at Tyler’s temple, each exhale fanning behind his ear, wrapping under it.

The sweet gesture makes Tyler feel a tiny bit better.

“I cannot even begin to make sense of how someone could not like you,” Josh says against him. “That's how I know those guys are fucking idiots- they couldn't see how amazing you are.”

Tyler lays his head on the Josh’s shoulder. He appreciates the attempt but he still feels down. There's shame, embarrassment, but even moreso a fear, not of masked men, but of himself.

“Josh,” Tyler says, “I did that thing again. I was so afraid and pissed and it all came together in a single moment.” He shakes his head as he tries to make sense of it. “My hands were shaking and the grass moved around me. I pushed one of them back without even touching him.”

Josh pulls back to look at him. “Really?”

Tyler nods. “I don't know how I did it.”

“Does that scare you?” Josh asks.

There's a pause. Tyler nods again.

Josh’s hand moves from his back to the side of his head. His fingers stroke the spirit’s hair soothingly. It's getting longer but Tyler likes the way Josh gets lost in it.

“Don't be scared, Tyler,” Josh says. “You're not alone. We’ll figure this out. Together.”

Arms around each other and shared heat that fights off the chill of the October wind, each other is all they really need.

“Josh?” Tyler says.

Josh hums.

“I wanna go home.”

Their fingers latch together, sides pressed close as they walk down the street. The silence they share on the walk home isn't uncomfortable. It's natural and preferred. Josh’s thumb runs over Tyler’s knuckles before he brings both of their hands up to his mouth so he can kiss the back of Tyler’s hand hand.

Tyler smiles, leans his head on Josh’s shoulder and admires the yellow moon that lights their way.

They slip in through the back door, the warmth of the heater licking at them as soon as they step inside. Their arrival doesn't catch the attention of the other members of the house, not when they're in the living room already getting situated with their beers, sodas and blankets.

Tyler squeezes his fingers and Josh looks down at their hands. His gaze drifts to Tyler’s other hand that he's holding against his stomach. The spirit’s wrist is swollen and with the earlier force applied to it.

“Jesus, Tyler,” Josh murmurs in reference to how painful it looks even with all the paint hiding the extent of the damage. “C’mere, c’mere.”

The red-haired man gently leads him over to kitchen sink and wets a dish towel. He helps Tyler wash his neck and his hands of the smeared black paint. When he cleans Tyler’s left wrist, the blue-black color of the swollen bruise underneath is revealed.

“Tyler…” Josh says, sounding heartbroken and pained.

“It's fine,” Tyler mumbles, looking at his feet, trying to ignore the painful throbbing radiating from it.

“No it's not,” Josh says. “People hurting you is never ‘fine,’ Tyler.”

Tyler shuffles his feet and bites his tongue. He just doesn't want Josh worrying about him, that's all.

Josh’s touch is gentle as he wipes away the paint. It's obvious he's trying his best to make Tyler not hurt but when the wet rag as much as touches the knob of bone of his wrist, the spirit can't contain his gasp of white-hot pain.

The other winces sympathetically, fingers even more feather light as he washes around that spot that is red and purple and black at the center. “Breathe, Tyler, we’re almost done. I know it sucks, I'm sorry, baby.”

Tyler looks up at the name.

“You keep calling me that,” Tyler says, pain mostly forgotten. “Why do you keep calling me that?”

The others a room over are having a debate on how loud the television should be but Tyler and Josh are in their own world that seems to solely consist of awkward quiet.

Josh’s fingers have stopped. He stares down, opens his mouth, closes it, opens it again.

“I-...I'm sorry,” Josh stutters and Tyler has never heard Josh stutter like this. “I didn't know it made you uncomfortable, I'm so sorry. I won't do it again, Tyler-”

“No!” Tyler says. They both jump at his volume. The others in the living room don't even notice. “I mean...it's okay. I…”

Tyler sighs. It's too embarrassing to just come out and say so he just leans forward until his forehead is resting on Josh’s collar bone so he doesn't have to see his expression.

He’s pretty sure he knows why his stomach feels fluttery or why he feels light headed when Josh says those sweet names. The same goes when Josh’s fingers run up and down his back when they're cuddling or when Josh whispers words into his hair.

Still, he doesn't know if Josh feels the same way. Maybe that's just the way Josh was- friendly, touchy.

He liked to put his legs across Hayley’s thighs when laying down on the couch, he didn't mind Mark hanging all over him when he was playing his DS. He gave out random hugs to anyone and everyone in the house.

But to Tyler, it _is_ different. He just doesn't know if it's different for Josh too- something potentially more.

He needs to make sure he's positive in what he's feeling. He needs to focus and try to understand that feeling. Tyler just needs to hear it, needs to feel that warm feeling that always follows it. He needs Josh closer.

“Hm?” Josh urges. “Tyler, what's wrong?”

Tyler grips Josh’s shirt tight in his hands and presses closer to him so that he's partially hidden. His face is on fire. This is so stupid, but it's too late to take back his outburst now.

“S-Say it again...please.”

There's a pause. Tyler thinks he's ruined everything.

That was stupid to ask for, that was so dumb and embarrassing to ever admit. Who even asks that? Who says it like that?

Tyler won't ever ask again. He’ll keep his infatuation to himself and try not to feel fluttery and light when they hold hands or when Josh hums against his neck.

He knew Josh didn't feel the same way. He shouldn't have said anything. This was dumb, dumb, dumb-

Strong arms wrap around him, comforting and solid. Warm breath smelling of chocolate and cigarettes trickles over his ear. “Everything’s fine, baby.”

Tyler’s breath gets stuck in his throat. He whimpers in surprise, almost inaudible. He presses closer. His fingers tighten in Josh’s shirt.

He forgets all of his previous promises to himself to stay discreet because he suddenly realizes just how beautiful those names sound on Josh’s tongue.

“Again.”

“Darling, you're safe,” Josh says.

“Again.”

“Sweetheart,” Josh croons.

“A-Again.”

“Baby boy, everything’s okay,” Josh laughs lightly.

Tyler’s stomach feels fluttery. His temperature is surely rising close to one-hundred degrees. He kinda feels like crying, he’s so warm.

He bites his bottom lip and leans further into Josh. There's a hand on the back of his neck and lips in his hair.

“Is that okay?” Josh whispers, just to make sure.

Tyler nods, eyes slipping closed. As long as Josh is here beside him, he'll be fine.

“Hey!” Hayley calls from the other room, oblivious to the current whispering and caressing happening in the corner of the kitchen. “Are you guys ready for the movie or what?”

Tyler looks up at Josh, still in his arms. Josh looks back with a questioning gaze, asking him silently if he wants to watch the movie or if he wants help coming up with an excuse that will excuse them to Josh’s bedroom to sleep off this shitty event.

Red eyes stare into brown. “Are you up for a movie?”

“I am if you are,” Josh says. “Whatever makes you feel better. I just want us to have a good night.”

They enter the living room together, hand in hand.

“Move over, losers,” Josh says, tugging Tyler along with him. The spirit can't help but laugh.

They make room by Mark moving off the sofa to sit on the floor. Josh immediately sits down in the corner of the sofa and the spot left behind is tiny. Tyler shuffles his feet, unsure how he'll fit.

Josh fixes the problem by reaching out, grabbing him by the waist and pulling him into his lap.

Tyler lets out a small gasp of surprise but quickly recovers with a deep blush and a shy look down at his lap.

“Okay?” Josh asks, making sure the other isn't uncomfortable. The spirit smiles and nods.

Tyler leans against Josh’s chest, shifting his ass so he's situated in the crease of the man’s legs. Josh keeps his left arm tight around Tyler’s waist as he leans forward over him to the floor.

“Thanks, dork,” Josh says as he steals Mark’s blanket from right off of him.

Mark grumbles his protest but gets up to get another blanket while Josh lays the soft quilt over both of them. It's plush and large and cozy. Tyler immediately melts and lays further against the other man’s chest as he pulls the blanket up around himself.

“How was the party?” Mark asks.

“Don't wanna talk about it. Are you gonna share any of that candy?” Josh asks him with a nod to the whole bag of chocolate kisses he's holding in his lap.

“You just stole my blanket!” Mark says. “I don't have to share with you!”

Tyler shifts on Josh’s lap. “Could I have some, Mark?”

Josh smirks evilly. Tyler smiles sweetly. Mark lets out a long groan of annoyance but takes a handful of kisses and throws it at the pair.

“You asshole!” Josh laughs as they pick up the candies from the folds of the blanket. He peels the foil off of one and throws it in his mouth out of spite.

“Guys, shut up! We’re watching the movie now,” Hayley says.

Mark pulls an ugly face. Josh sticks his chocolatey tongue out at him. Tyler rolls his eyes.

Hayley hits play on the television remote and in comes clay characters and sweetly spooky music and sets of a cartoony town that are as pretty as they are ominous.

Tyler is semi-invested, fingers interlacing with Josh’s absently after their fingers brush under the blanket. Tyler’s a decent multi-tasker, so he's keeping up with the movie as he fidgets with Josh’s fingers.

Josh, however, doesn't seem to be paying attention.

He keeps nudging his nose against Tyler’s temple and murmuring things Tyler can't quite make out into his ear. His breath is warm and it sounds soothing and Tyler’s getting distracted.

“What're you doing?” Tyler whispers just between them, quiet enough that Hayley won't yell at them for disrupting movie night.

Josh looks at his lips then up to his eyes.

“I didn't like them calling you those names,” Josh huffs in weak frustration. “I’m sorry they said all that shit.”

Tyler didn't know it bothered him that much or that he was still thinking about it. It makes his cheeks heat up a bit at the thought of Josh caring so much and getting angry on his behalf.

“I didn't mind,” Tyler lies.

Josh leans into the crook of Tyler’s neck, lips parting so he can bite lightly at the collar of the spirit’s shirt. His voice is low and muffled as he says, “Didn’t like it…”

He can feel Josh’s irritation, most likely his regret of not being there still eating away at him too. Tyler brings a hand up to stroke the shorter hair at the side of Josh’s head.

“I know,” Tyler says, “but it's over. We’re both okay. We’re here, together. Let’s not think about anything else.”

Josh nods against him, releasing the shirt from between his teeth. Hot lips barely brush his pulse, scalding breath fans over his throat. Tyler blushes again, harder this time.

They stay like that for a while, Josh’s fingers trailing back and forth over Tyler’s waist under the blanket and Tyler nuzzling the side of Josh’s head. He smells earthy, musky, like weed and sweat. It makes Tyler warm.

The movie continues to play but they're only concerned with each other. They’re nestled together, overwhelming each other in the best way and it's so incredibly relaxing and safe and soft.

The pain is kept at bay as is the guilt and regret and every other terribly negative emotion that plagues them. They can work through shit later. Right now, it's just them on a beautifully chilly night in October.

And that’s more than fine.

**Author's Note:**

> Wow, that was long. Have an awesome Halloween and stay safe!


End file.
